


Charlotte aux Fraises

by krisherdown



Category: Tennis RPF
Genre: Alternate Universe - Coffee Shops & Cafés, Alternate Universe - Writing & Publishing, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-11-30
Updated: 2013-11-30
Packaged: 2018-01-02 18:03:32
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,009
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1059868
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/krisherdown/pseuds/krisherdown
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>
  <i>Andy knows if it was up to him, he’d hole up in the bedroom of his apartment and stay there to do what makes him money. It could be done but it’s not healthy for a writer to stay completely away from civilization.</i>
</p><p>
  <i>The good news is that he can allow flexibility as far as the hours and the location of the work process. As a result, his main working hours are in the evening and those hours take place at a small coffee shop.</i>
</p>
            </blockquote>





	Charlotte aux Fraises

**Author's Note:**

> Written for [netcord.](http://chair-umpire.livejournal.com/25830.html)

Andy knows if it was up to him, he’d hole up in the bedroom of his apartment and stay there to do what makes him money. It _could_ be done but it’s not healthy for a writer to stay completely away from civilization; more appropriately, he didn’t need to be distracted by a video game console calling his name. He’s had enough success as a ghostwriter on a few young adult series to allow himself time to _occasionally_ focus on his original work, even if those words didn’t want to flow as easily as when he’s forcing himself to channel Nancy Drew.

The good news – especially as far as his roommate Laura and her assorted college friends are concerned – is that he can allow flexibility as far as the hours and the location of the work process. As a result, his main working hours are in the evening and those hours take place at _Café Fraise_ , a small coffee shop that opened up about a year ago. He stations himself at a corner table and, in the midst of writing work that gets him paid, tries to take in his surroundings and keep the character of the place in mind should his own story ever arise again.

While the place is busy with business folk in the morning, the evening is usually about students from the nearby university looking for a caffeine fix and families looking to distract bratty kids with the sweet desserts in the display. Neither especially worthy as a story subject but had to keep his eyes and ears open to possibility.

* * * * *

It takes some time but Andy does eventually find a possible subject for his own work: Richie, the regular guy behind the counter in the evening. Blond hair, French, probably around mid-twenties like Andy, nose buried in a textbook when there are no customers, always looking harried. The guy rarely talks to customers beyond taking the order; in fact, he never seems to look at ease, period. Andy doesn’t think Richie’s English is weak, per se, but Richie sometimes plays dumb regarding the language in order to get out of deeper conversation.

The other even-somewhat regular evening employee, Ben, always has a smile on his face and constantly cracks jokes toward the customers so he’s quite a contrast to Richie. Even though both Richie and Ben are French, Ben makes a point of only speaking English even if he’s being bossed around in French. Ben is closer to the characteristics of the other staff here: barely out of high school age, more interested in the weekend social scene, a fan of his job for flirting options.

There was a time when Ben had tried to turn the charm on toward Richie, who had no interest in playing along with that version of nonsense. Richie basically put up with him because Ben was learning about the kitchen from Gael between shifts. Since that combination meant Ben’s job was secure even with Richie’s annoyance, Ben realized his style wasn’t worth wasting on Richie and gave up on the mission of getting Richie to loosen up.

This is a pity because Andy has noticed Richie has a rather nice smile; it just appears fleetingly and at the oddest of times. If Ben has inadvertently done something funny, Richie turns his back or starts focusing on the food display or anything other than to admit giving in to Ben.

Andy doesn’t realize he has an actual goal until there comes an evening he arrives to a customer at the counter being especially picky about his drink, which has Ben repeating the order a few times. Richie is still reading from his textbook but Andy has noticed over time that Richie always hears the door open so it does strike him as odd. When the customer finally has the order to his satisfaction, Ben says something rather loudly in French before throwing himself through the doors toward the back room.

That’s when Andy realizes why Richie didn’t look up, as he hears an unmistakable snort of someone who’s been trying desperately not to laugh. Richie attempts to cover it up by foaming milk he senses will be needed for Andy’s drink, which at least successfully keeps the difficult customer in the dark.

Andy waits until the other customer exits the café to place his drink order. "I hope you kept track of that man’s order because I want the exact item, except switch the hazelnut to vanilla, no soy in sight and eliminate all the other extras as well." Andy thinks for a moment, then adds, "His was iced, right? So, yeah, mine should be hot."

"So that would be a regular vanilla latte." Richie shakes his head, still smiling, as he fixes Andy’s usual drink. "Do you understand French?"

"Not really. I can pick up words here and there, as I took French back in high school."

"Ben said ‘this is why I’m in culinary school’. Knew he’d eventually crack and say something in French when on duty. Just figured he’d be exasperated with me when it happened."

Andy does chuckle at that information, then tilts his head to get a better view of Richie’s textbook. "You don’t go to culinary school, right?"

"Are you kidding? No, economics," then Richie says over his shoulder, loud enough for Ben to hear in the back room, "Bakers are so flaky!"

Ben returns with a smirk on his face and arms crossed. "It takes me yelling for you to be all punny?" He then realizes Andy is there and mutters, "Figures."

* * * * *

Andy admits he might be boring. Richie didn’t have to think through that difficult customer’s order to figure what Andy wanted that day as Andy always gets a regular vanilla latte, only switching it up by getting iced in the summer when the air conditioning isn’t blasting too high. He would rather splurge and get the rich pastries he’s seen in the display but only actually spends extra money on a bagel so it can totally count as a meal. After all, he doesn’t want to _literally_ be a starving writer.

He’s waiting for his food when he sees an unfamiliar item in the display. The café doesn’t actually sell cupcakes so to see one that seems to be calling out to Andy does throw him off getting the bagel currently being heated.

Richie has the plate in his hand when he notices Andy’s distraction. "Gael’s new experiment. Vanilla spice cupcake. Don’t know if he’ll make it again. He said that it works better when he can acquire Tahitian vanilla for the frosting."

"Does it sell?"

"Yeah it did well. The thing is, Gael hates vanilla. He thinks it’s too boring, prefers working with fruit to something as plain as vanilla. I tell him it helps business but he pouts all the way through the baking and irritates Gilles in the process, who then proceeds to bitch at Jo throughout the morning." Richie shrugs, then mutters, "Gael will only listen to Jo when it comes to food suggestions because he’s the only one who knows anything on the subject."

Andy gives a slight smile then says, "But the truth is you wish he’d listen to your suggestion because you actually like the vanilla."

Richie takes advantage of a getaway, thanks to the bagel being ready. "Maybe. Want to try? It might help keep the item on the shelves. Er, so it can fly _off_ the shelves."

"Uh, I’d like to, but can’t."

"Dietary restriction?"

"No, monetary. Rent comes first."

It’s an hour later when Andy looks up from his laptop to see that cupcake has appeared next to his drink. Andy shoots his head around. Richie had just finished with a customer and flashes Andy a quick smile. Andy shakes his head but is chuckling.

Andy waits until that customer has exited the café to approach the counter, where Richie has resumed studying what appears to be a flow chart. "Isn’t the owner going to be mad when he finds out?"

Richie squints, not sure whether Andy is teasing or if he’s just misunderstanding the question. "No, I think he’ll be okay with it."

* * * * *

Andy comes in one morning, when he’s forced to deal with his boss, so needs a stronger coffee to deal with the change in schedule. Jo, the manager, is at the counter with his annoyingly bright and cheerful smile to take Andy’s order – he wants to deviate but only opts for an extra espresso shot instead. As one of the kids is getting the order done, a mound of crazy hair appears with a tray of croissants.

Jo mutters something under his breath, then Crazy-Hair shakes his head and says, "I told you I’m not doing this vanilla spice cupcake after today until I get the right type of vanilla." Okay, so this is the baker, Gael, Richie was talking about.

"Even though Richie said…"

"It doesn’t sell. I know he’s buying the product to alter the numbers. He’s trying to confuse us with spreadsheets again."

Andy cannot help it. He tells Jo, "Can you add on one of those cupcakes he just put in the display? I had it the other day and it was quite good."

"What?" Jo says, totally thrown off. "See, Gael? People do buy."

Gael gives Andy a sideways glance, still suspicious but reluctantly nods along. "Okay. _One_ more day."

Andy realizes that he’s apparently made enough of a mark here for someone to remember him. Richie gives Andy a vanilla spice cupcake on the house the following evening.

* * * * *

Andy doesn’t particularly care for Ben taking his order. Mainly because Andy has heard Ben flirting with nearly every customer that sets foot in this place…except Andy. He’s not sure if there’s a good reason or if he just sees Andy as a regular who wouldn’t be receptive. Though, to be fair, Andy _wouldn’t_ be receptive but it’s the principle of the matter.

So Ben is handling his order because Richie is observing the cops dealing with a car accident that took place in the parking lot. Ben glances toward the group but cannot help but insist, "The vanilla latte would work better if you threw in one shot of caramel. Sparks up the flavor."

"That’s okay." Andy now having to keep his eyes on Ben as he makes the latte. Thankfully, Ben doesn’t deviate from the preparation and only squirts from the vanilla syrup bottle, not the caramel bottle at the far end. He has set the lid in place, then looks outside. "I’m not supposed to say this but... Do you know what the staff calls you?"

"I don’t know. Vanilla guy?" At Ben’s confused look, Andy explains, "Because of the cupcake and my order."

"Oh. No. Charlotte aux fraises."

Andy frowns, then goes through his limited French vocabulary. Nope, nothing resembling that word. "I know _fraise_ means strawberry thanks to the name of this place but what does _charlotte_ mean?"

"The phrase roughly translates to ‘strawberry shortcake’. Like the kiddie cartoon? The food item itself actually uses sponge cake or lady fingers. We’ve never actually served it here because the true recipe is no good for transporting but, for the sake of the nickname, it’s about shortcake. Shortcake is basically bland and tasteless… unless you put it with strawberries. Both work off each other quite well."

Andy shrugs. "I suppose there are worse things to be called than a boring cake."

"You don’t understand. It goes perfectly with strawberries."

"I heard you."

Ben stares at the ceiling, hands on his hips. "Can’t say I didn’t try."

* * * * *

Andy has another morning meeting but it isn’t until he’s had his first sip that he notices the change in the décor. There had been a lot of black furniture previously but it’s all been replaced with red. In particular, plush red furniture where there had been black plastic. Plush red furniture that is ridiculously comfortable and might make him not want to go to this meeting.

"It’s amazing the difference a few pieces of furniture make," Andy remarks to Jo, who’s straightening a nearby display.

Jo looks over; then shrugs. "I admit I was surprised. I agreed regarding needing to upgrade from the plastic. Just didn’t imagine it as so… red. Though I shouldn’t be surprised, given it does go with the name of the café."

"You had no idea about the furniture? Don’t you need to approve such a change as the owner?"

"I’m not the owner," Jo says casually, then stops as he realized he shouldn’t have said such a thing.

"You’re not?" Jo tries to shush Andy, sinking down into the other chair. Andy speaks at near a whisper, "But I’ve heard you talk about this place as if it was yours."

"Well, yes and no." Jo bites his lip, thinking what he should say, then throws his hands in the air as if tired of telling such stories. "Gael, who is in charge of the food, and I came up with _Café Fraise_. I went to school for food services management so it was a nice match for us. That said, we don’t actually have the money for such an enterprise. The money itself came from a friend of ours and he’s still involved with the business. I did recommend changing the furniture when we could afford it, mentioned it should look more comforting. He thinks the color red is lucky or something, hence all this."

"You mean he sticks with the books?" meaning the spreadsheets and accounting side.

"Well, he would if we didn’t push him to work here in the evenings so he can’t always hide behind textbooks." Andy’s mouth drops, garnering a smile from Jo. "Yep. It’s his fault."

* * * * *

"I thought you were just a college student," Andy says instead of his order the next evening he visits.

Richie frowns, then stares in the direction of the textbook he just abandoned to take this order. "I am a college student. I have a test tomorrow to prove it."

"You’re also the owner. Jo said…"

Richie glances toward Ben stocking shelves. "Keep it down. Ben is full of brainstorms and I’d rather he think I only transmit his ideas to Jo and Gael. Actually, somewhat true anyway."

"I don’t get it."

"Stay until closing. I’ll get rid of Ben and we’ll talk."

Andy sets up his laptop at his corner seat, knowing there is about two hours to go. He is fortunate today was only about typing up handwritten notes into something resembling an autobiography fitting of a baseball player with a big ego. It was simpler than dealing with the Nancy Drew book that was currently sitting on his boss’ desk for review.

At eleven o’clock, Andy was taken out of his routine by Ben calling out loudly, "We are closed! Abandon ye work on laptop at once!"

Richie says, "You can leave early today. I’d rather deal with clean-up alone."

Ben looks toward Andy, who is gathering his belongings, then puts on a garishly bright scarf as he says, "It’s about damn time, dude. We all realize…"

"If you want to lose this chance, keep it up." There’s an unusually biting tone to Richie’s statement, as if he’s ready to go off on Ben.

"Fine." Ben shakes his head then throws on his black coat. "Good night."

Andy thinks Richie is going to come over to the table but Richie opts to talk from the counter instead, cleaning the counters. "My grandfather was a rather wealthy man when he passed away and this," gesturing with the rag around the café, "was what happened to some of the inheritance. Jo and Gael have talked about having their own business since we were all in high school. Everything just made sense."

"Meanwhile you’re stuck in a quiet café late at night when you could be studying."

"Not a big deal. I like school. Got my bachelor’s in mathematics with a minor in computer science, took two of the exams for actuary science because that’s what my father wanted from me instead of the computer stuff. He has no say in how I spent that money but it was still a form of rebelling when we opened this place."

"So you take classes you don’t actually need towards any degree?"

Richie shakes his head. "I do need some business knowledge. I want to make sure this place succeeds and, after all, it’s _my_ money that started everything. Jo knows management but he’s no accountant. I didn’t exactly write a blank check to those lovebirds."

"Who are the… you mean Jo and Gael?"

"If Jo can tell my secret, I can tell his. Yes, I mean Jo and Gael. Totally knew they’d be together, even if it took bonding over creating this place for them to actually get out of denial and realize they’ve basically been dating for years."

"You don’t want Ben to know you’re the owner?"

"I’m no boss. It’s easier if the college kids think Jo is fully in charge and I’m just the evening guy who reports to him. Jo definitely sells the place better."

"Who knows? Besides Jo and Gael."

Richie goes through the list of employees in his head, then shrugs. "Gilles, who does prep work, doesn’t _technically_ know but he knows they were broke so, for sure, he’s guessed even if he hasn’t said so to me."

"You should step up."

"I did," Richie holds his hand out in regard to the new furniture, proud of his handiwork.

Andy can’t help but laugh. "Yeah, I don’t think Jo is too happy about it."

"Oh well. I have to put up with seeing horrid art work on the walls so we’re even."

* * * * *

Ben has claimed on numerous occasions that he will be selling his own desserts one day, thanks to his Swiss connections. Gael gives in and allows Ben a spot in the display for his next shift, the item needing approval from Gael.

Andy imagines the staff had a good laugh upon adding _charlotte aux fraises_ to the display. It is even worse when Ben announces, as his sales pitch, that it’s been quite a seller and may actually stay on the menu, shit-eating grin planted on his face. Ben practically dares Andy to order it, which he just cannot do.

Richie couldn’t look more uncomfortable about this item’s presence.

* * * * *

It’s around seven o’clock on a Saturday night when a blond guy in a business suit enters. Andy only notices because the guy doesn’t actually walk to the counter, just lingers by the door.

Richie looks up, then calls out to the back, "Ben! Your ride is here."

The businessman says apologetically, "We’re supposed to pick up my sister at the airport and Ben wanted…"

"I get it," Richie snapped. "Ben wanted out of working tonight and I convinced him to stay a little while. He did good."

"You know, you could close the doors and nobody except that bookworm," gesturing toward Andy, "would notice. It’s Saturday night. You could find better company."

Ben pops out of the back at that point, wrapping his arms around the businessman and hanging over the guy. "Are you seriously trying to hook him up, Stanley? That’s so cute. Come on. We have a sister to frighten."

Richie glares at their backs as they exit the café then glances toward Andy, who is pretending he didn’t hear any of it. "Nice try but I know you have good hearing," then walks back behind the counter.

Andy stays focused on the laptop as he says as a throwaway comment, "So that’s the Swiss guy Ben brags about."

"Yeah. Stan is a stockbroker. He’s actually quite nice. Jo tried to fix me up with him – until we realized Stan was hanging around because he was trying to figure out Ben’s schedule."

At this point, Andy looks up to find Richie standing at the counter, looking as if he wants to ask something. "You know you _could_ close up and enjoy a Saturday night out. Don’t stay open because I’m here."

"That’s not…" Richie shakes his head. "I don’t care about being alone."

"You _like_ spending your Saturday nights with me? I know I’m usually here those nights, as Laura and her boyfriend hang out at our place before hitting the clubs with the other college kids."

"Um, something like that." Richie makes a show of fixing the display, then says, "You could head to the clubs."

"No. Too old for that scene. I don’t drink alcohol so bars are even less appealing."

"Same here. Got in serious trouble attempting to pick up a girl there last time. Let’s just say ordering just a coke could still turn into disaster. That and I already knew I wasn’t interested in women but my father had insisted I should try to settle down." Richie sits on the stool he has behind the counter and has his hand covering his face. "Jo saw working nights as a way to stay out of careless trouble."

Andy stands up and stands over the glass display, his hand resting on the top with fingers on the edge above Richie’s head. "You don’t need to close yourself off from people."

Richie lowers his hand and looks up at Andy, questions on the tip of his tongue. "Andy, right?"

"Yeah," though Andy has to admit he’s thrown by Richie actually saying his name, as Andy has never told him or any of the evening people that information. Must have found out from Jo, who was being overly friendly during the early days of the café.

"I’d rather be here than there."

* * * * *

Ever since Laura found out about the Nancy Drew stuff, she’s made a point of checking over Andy’s shoulder at his other work. Normally, Andy would have been fine regarding her reading the baseball player autobiography but he’s been distracted by adding notes to another file.

Of course it’s this file that Laura actually reads when Andy is in the bathroom. Andy returns and Laura asks, "You’re back to the teen novels?"

"No. Why?"

"You’re writing like a girl again. Your hero Marcelo with his mysterious life in an empty house he got in an inheritance. Your heroine Jane desperate for information because she thinks she’s the key to making him happy. It’s sad and pathetic, Andy. Come to think of it, I don’t know an existing series with such characters. Don’t tell me this is _your own work._ "

Andy immediately closes the file and resigns himself to sticking with writing as someone else. He’s better at doing that.

* * * * *

"What do you actually do for a living?" Richie says all of a sudden the following quiet Saturday night, another evening that could’ve easily had the doors closed for the night as nobody has shown up for an hour. Ben had left around six, so Richie was the only worker. Not that it mattered in the slightest. "I know you always have stacks of handwritten notes and you type really fast so I’d guess… transcriber?"

Andy waves Richie over to the table, gesturing for him to sit on the other chair. "I’m a writer."

"Really? Anything out yet?"

"I’m not… I mean, I work for a publishing house."

"Oh, so you edit?"

It’s at this point when Andy normally agrees with that guess, then gets out of the conversation. The only person who actually knows what Andy does for a living outside of work is his roommate… and that was only due to having to explain why he was channeling Nancy Drew before Laura had him committed. Everyone else assumes Andy is an editor, which is true in the broadest sense only. But Andy already knows Richie’s secret about owning this place so he almost feels obliged to offer something in return. "I’m actually a ghostwriter."

"Oh. You mean you write scary stories?"

"No. Hold on." Andy holds up a finger to give him a minute, then types the word into an online translator. He gets nothing then tries with a space between the words and shakes his head furiously, that phrase totally not what he means. He attempts an explanation. "I’m the guy who writes the story that claims to be an autobiography. Or, take a young adult series and keep it going even though the listed author has been dead for many years."

"You’ve never written for yourself?"

"It was the one novel I wrote that led to this job." Andy frowns at the memory of having a book with solid reviews that couldn’t sell. "Then again, better than being a starving writer. I have tried to write a follow-up but…" It consists of about a thousand words worth of notes about Richie’s secret life in a large empty house. The complete truth is, as Laura put it, sad and pathetic. "It’s heading nowhere."

Richie smirks, then adds, "If you were truly a starving writer, then there’s something really wrong with Gael’s recipes."

Andy gives a wry smile but something about that sentence triggers a different memory. Not of Gael’s recipes but Ben’s one item. He stands up and darts for the display in search of Ben’s dessert. Sure enough, the _charlotte aux fraises_ is still being sold, even though there are only two slices left in the display.

Richie cautiously stands up and approaches the display to see where Andy is looking. Andy chances a glance Richie’s way and, sure enough, he’s back to the twitchy nervousness Andy remembers from the early encounters. Richie sounds so tentative when he asks, "Do you want a piece?"

"I guess."

Richie walks around the counter, fingers shaky as he handles the wax paper and spatula to transfer both cake slices to the one plate. He waves off the money Andy has in his hand, claiming, "It’ll likely go stale so you’re doing me a favor," before taking the plate and two forks, setting it on a table not cluttered by Andy’s stuff and dragging it over. Richie initially sits on the chair but, when Andy doesn’t move, opts to sit on the arm of the chair instead.

It’s been bothering Andy since Ben mentioned that damn nickname as to what exactly the strawberries part has to do with calling him a rather bland cake. He thinks he now knows the real answer but asks anyway, "Who named this place?"

"Huh?" Richie definitely had not expected that question. He crosses his arms over his chest and goes into the answer every other employee gives, "Gael wanted to name the place _Café Chocolat_ but Jo pointed out he didn’t bake exclusively with chocolate so it’d be wrong to deceive the chocoholics. Jo then joked that, since Gael doesn’t like vanilla, the place should naturally be called Strawberry."

"That’s a fun story but I’m pretty sure it’s a lie. I believe the chocolate part, as both Gael and Jo are dark-skinned, but my guess is that Strawberry… is you because of your love of the color red. Since nobody else knows you’re the owner, they had to alter the origin story and claim to give you the nickname after the fact thanks to the nickname the others gave me."

Richie stares at the floor, muttering to himself, "Oh fuck," then a bunch of French that probably translate to cuss words. "Look, Andy. It’s not… see, about the nickname…"

"Obviously Ben created this dessert with the intention of messing with both of us. Naturally, Gael loved the idea because they all know." Andy takes a deep breath, then turns around and approaches Richie’s seated form. He puts a knee partially down on the seat cushion so they’re at about the same eye level then repeats, "they _know_."

"It’s rather embarrassing," Richie needing to look away from Andy but they’re too close.

Andy places a hand on Richie’s shoulder, forcing Richie to focus on him as he says carefully, "I don’t stay here long unless you’re around because, on the rare occasion I actually am able to write something of my own, it seems to turn into made-up backstory about you. That file sits on my laptop and is a source of amusement for my roommate and her friends. Might actually be worse than the Nancy Drew admission because now they’re _convinced_ I’m truly an angst-ridden teenage girl who is incapable of making a move." Andy slides his fingers toward Richie’s neck and captures his mouth in a kiss. Richie rises up so they both end up standing, resting his hands on Andy’s waist to get better position on the kiss.

Richie turns his head just enough to pause the kiss but otherwise doesn’t break contact. He breathes out, "Do you want me to lock the door?"

"Absolutely yes." Andy watches as Richie flips the sign around to ‘closed’, lowers the curtain and locks the door. Once that’s settled, Andy approaches so that Richie turns around and immediately ends up with his back against that door so they can resume kissing.

* * * * *

Andy’s next visit to the café is on Monday morning due to an early meeting with his boss. He intends to try to sell his own story once he gets the draft of that autobiography on the desk. Not much is actually written but he’s pretty sure he can tempt his boss with a bunch of descriptions of delectable desserts until he can figure beyond the notes.

It’s a college student who’s supposed to take his order but Jo points the kid toward the next patron. The smile from Jo has trouble for Andy written all over it. "I could make a guess as to what happened. Regular vanilla latte?"

"Yeah. He told you?"

Jo smirks, then admits, "Actually, no, but he really pushed for a return of the vanilla spice cupcake. He showed up here _before opening_ on Sunday and put his foot down to Gael instead of just throwing numbers around on the shift change. Totally unlike him. There’s only one logical explanation."

"I tried something different."


End file.
